Happy Birthday to Me

When we were kids there was that commercial where a guy's boss comes in, hands him a ticket and says something like, "Johnson, we need you in Omaha by tomorrow." He lamely replies, "But it's my birthsday." We used that line a lot cause the guy had a slight lisp and it just sounded so damn wussy.

Today, I'm getting ready for work. First I discover that our cat (aka the Wood) has puked on our living room rug. After a few GDs I clean it up and continue getting ready. Since I'm the only one in the office this week I've been wearing shorts the last few days. As I go to put my shorts on today I catch the unmistakable odor of kitty urine. On my shorts. Which were laying on the bed. Soaked through to the comforter, sheets, and mattress pad. F'in cat! I now have to soak my short and the comforter and put the other Shiite stuff in the warsh lest the smell set in.

All I could think of as I was forced to repair the damages that Woody's bodily fluids have inflicted was:

"But it's my birthsday."